


Cottage By the Sea

by pushupindrag



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6308893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushupindrag/pseuds/pushupindrag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slice of life, in which Steve and Bucky life in a small cottage beside the sea with a cat named Bill.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>The cottage had been bought long ago and sat practically on top of the sea. Ivy curled around the door, and a crumbling few walls separated the tidy garden from the lane between the home and the pebbled sand.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cottage By the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Just a simple slice of life fic, because I feel like I wont be able to write anything nice and not angsty after civil War comes out (which is so soon? How) for a very long while.  
> Other titles included: In Which Steve Is a Quiet Artist in a Seaside Town Who Paints Seascapes, and Bucky the Equally Quiet Vet Who Watches/Loves Him
> 
> Come chat with me on tumblr [here](http://buckybdarnes.tumblr.com/) and cry with me about Bucky Barnes
> 
> Un'beted so if you find any mistakes please let me know :)

The cottage had been bought long ago and sat practically on top of the sea. Ivy curled around the door, and a crumbling few walls separated the tidy garden from the lane between the home and the pebbled sand.

The city had not been kind to Steve, but two years at art school and a small, but favourable art career later left him comfortable in his mother’s old home with a scraggly cat called Bill and a war veteran best friend turned partner called Bucky.

Their home was theirs, despite it needing to be fixed or painted in places. They would get to it eventually. It wasn’t of any great importance that it needed to get done quickly.

Bucky worked at the grocers down the road, and Steve made a bit of money off his paintings. Mostly of the sea that sat right outside their wind battered front door. Money wasn’t a big worry, it was just nice to stay occupied while able to pay the bills. Especially with them both just being under thirty, not that they didn’t love the sleepy seaside town.

“Good morning sweetheart.” Bucky groans, flinging his arm out to silence the alarm sat on his bedside table perched behind a small pile of books. He manages to knock it onto the floor just beside the bed, but quietens it so his second groan into the pillows isn’t too loud.

Steve is able to laugh through his hacking cough, present there every morning. Bucky just sits up and rubs at his boyfriend’s small and bony back until it stops, worry lines etched into his forehead.  
  
“Sounds worse today.”  
  
“I was out too long yesterday” Steve waves off, but leans over his shoulder to kiss the brunette, disturbing the orange cat at the end of the bed as he tugs the covers further into his lap.  
  
“Well maybe today you should sleep in.”  
  
“Good idea, i’ll feed grumpy first though” Steve reaches down and tugs a hand over the cat’s ears before getting out from under the warm covers, feet landing into oddly comfortable bunny slippers that Bucky had gotten him for christmas last year as a joke.

Steve gets up, trudging down the few stairs to get to the ground floor and into the sunlit kitchen, back creaking as he goes. He puts a pot of coffee on and feeds Bill while Bucky showers and gets ready for work. Yawning contentedly, he sets out the one mug as he listens to Bucky use the small bathroom upstairs and Bill crunch down on his cat biscuits. Sunning his back, he turns to lean against the wooden counter, waiting for the coffee.

The cottage was split into two ‘floors’ given that the land was uneven. Downstairs held the kitchen, the livingroom and guest bedroom, a small hall and stairs held coats, a shoe rack and cupboard. Up the few shallow steps led to a larger bathroom with a bath, a storage room and finally Steve and Bucky’s bedroom. Each room was warm and homely, covered in carpets and welcoming colour tones. Pictures were hung everywhere with soft furnishings. Inviting and safe, it reflected its owners perfectly.

“I’m going back to bed” Steve announces as Bucky tumbles down, the missing arm a normal piece of life now. Even as Steve says it though he’s sitting down at the table, buttered toast and coffee waiting.   
  
“You do need your sleep. Finished your commission?” Bucky asks, sitting opposite at the old butcher block style table to eat and drink.  
  
“Not yet, nearly though. I really don’t want Mrs Grady paying for this one. She pays us enough in baked goods” Mr and Mrs Grady lived down the road from Steve and Bucky in a little cottage of their own, both retired bakers who’d taken to trying feeding Steve and Bucky until they burst.

“Did you tell her that?” Bucky manages to spray crumbs everywhere, and the butter on them is enough for Bill to jump onto the table and hoover them up. Neither man bothering to shoo him away as the cat would just jump right back up to carry on licking the evidence of the breakfast away. He would have licked the plate too if Steve hadn’t taken it to put in the sink, Bucky having finished both coffee and toast.

“Of course I did, she wouldn’t take no for an answer though.” Steve’s fond as he sighs in exasperation. The Grady’s were lovely, but they were stubborn as al hell.  
  
“You do have one of those faces.” They’re both standing now, Bucky fussing over his bag and Steve rinsing the plate before they both go into the hall. Stopping at the door, Steve fusses with Bucky’s collar for no reason other than to keep him there a few seconds longer and waits until Bucky leans down to kiss him. It’s quick and sweet.  
  
“I’ll be back around three.” Bucky promises, planting another kiss onto his boyfriend’s lips and leaving. Steve leaning against the doorframe until Bucky’s no longer in sight.

“In or out Bill?” He asks the cat worming around his legs, dawdling. The sea was high today and the birds unusually loud. There was a litter tray indoors but Bill was free to come and go as he pleased providing a door or window was open. Bill just meows loudly, making a move to go out before freezing and running back indoors and up the stairs. “You and me both” Steve chuckles, closing the door gently behind him, locking it and then following Bill’s lead back upstairs to bed.

Steve wakes again three hours later of his own accord and rolls out of bed, squinting until he pulls his glasses on and looks at the time. It was around 11, which wasn’t too bad. He shuffles around until he finds clean underwear, a tshirt, soft collared shirt and old sweater that looks like it could have been Bucky’s and a pair of paint stained jeans. He would need everything if he was sitting outside again today.

Once dressed, he goes into the third and last room upstairs which held his art supplies and any other junk. Grabbing the things he needs to finish the painting, he struggles back downstairs, not wanting to make more than one trip.

He sets everything onto the kitchen table, putting the kettle on again before going to open the front door and set up his easel outside, grooves worn into the dirt where the contraption had been placed many times before. The wind wasn’t too bad that day, which was a relief.

When the half-finished painting is set up, Steve goes back inside to pour out a cup of green tea, letting it steep as he goes back outside to set up his small table with two pots of water and his pallets of water colours. Normally he would paint for Mrs Grady with oils as her eye sight wasn’t the best anymore and could see his paintings through her fingers, but this time, watercolours had been requested. And who was he to deny her.

He grabs a piece of cake too from the bread box to go with his tea, it was never too early for cake. It was fruity and rich, and he felt it balanced with the green tea so he’s happy to put them both down by his paints. He grabs a forkful of the sweet, stuffing it into his mouth as he gets his brush, looking to the sea. The weather was similar to the day before so it was easy to keep things the same colour wise, and he could wait until the waves were further from the beach to finish the sand. Sticking with traditional colours, he paints. Colour blindness not stopping him as his practice from years ago meant that he could use the right colours, even if it looked a little funny to him.

He’d paint from his perspective when he could, letting things blur from where he had his short sightedness and the colours that changed from what others saw. Bucky said that they were his favourites, because he liked seeing what Steve did. Smiling to himself at the thought, Steve starts to paint, filling in the sky with blues and greys, the waves in darker variations.

Barely stopping to eat, his tea goes cold and eventually he has to throw half of his cake to the birds. It’s not like he minds, he didn’t eat much anyway, not while working. He also had the unfortunate habit of mixing up his drink and paint water which led to many, many disasters and a disgusting taste in his mouth for a long while afterwards.

Bill joins him at one point, becoming a friendly hot water bottle as he purrs on Steve’s lap, padding into the many layers Steve wore until he felt comfortable enough to sleep.

Happy to have the company, Steve leaves him be. Wiggling every now and then to regain feeling back into his legs. Careful enough not to wake the sourpuss.

Wind ruffling his hair, Steve carries on painting. Sounds of the ocean and bird calls lulling him into a quiet and calm headspace, one easy enough to paint with as he lets his hand direct the paintbrush across the dry page. He’s still careful though, not wanting the colours to mix or paint to drip. Overall it’s still relaxing and he finds himself humming tunelessly under his breath.

The cat stretches a while later, just as Steve is finishing up, meowing loudly and jumping heavily down into the slightly over grown grass and leading his way into the house. Crying all the way there.

It was time to go in anyway, Steve notes. The wind had picked up and there was a familiar tingle in his bones that told him he would be aching tomorrow if he didn’t get inside soon. So he cleans up, tossing his dirty water and thinking about the day. Nobody had passed by, which made sense seeing as though it wasn’t a holiday, and traffic only really picked up during then. And the small home was far enough away from the little seaside town that only a few people had to pass the house to get there. And even then most trips were only once or twice a week.

He leaves the still wet painting on the easel but sets it aside in a sunny spot in the kitchen, dappled a little by the approaching clouds.  
  
“It’s gonna rain later, what do you think buddy?” Steve turns to Bill who was still meowing loudly at his cat bowl.

All Steve gets is an angry glare in response, so before putting his own very late lunch on, he sets out more wet food and water for the grouchy pet. Sometimes, Steve wondered if Bill was less cat than he let on.

Humming to himself, Steve sets the soup from the night before onto the stove to heat, booting up his laptop in the cozy livingroom. It was a small enough room filled with enough overstuffed couches and chairs and wooden furniture that it heated by itself, and he wouldn’t have to worry about setting the fire.

Whirring into life, Steve leaves the laptop to start up and gets his own bowl out, leaving one out for Bucky who should be home within the hour if the clock above the pots and pans was still correct.  
  
“Alrighty then” muttering to himself, Steve plonks down to open his emails while he slurps at the vegetable broth. He always tried to actively keep in touch with a few friends, plus keep up with the outside world. Refusing to stay inside the bubble his home provided. Ignorance, he had decided long ago, was not bliss.

Sam had started working at the VA full time now that he had his degree Sam tells him, which Steve was exceedingly happy about. He tells him too over the chat they had set up, Natasha chiming in too as she logs on.

Sam: Thnks both of u  
Natasha: You’re welcome :))  
Steve: ur both dorks how do u cope??  
Sam: v well actlly  
Natasha: You were only missing two letters then, it wouldn’t have taken you long to type in those two letters ://  
Sam: Shut up Ms emojii  
Natasha: Where the hell is the middle finger emoji? It needs to be a thing

Steve sits there giggling, taking a mouthful of soup as he opens more emails and then wikipedia on the side.

Since he had been living by the sea he had been interested in what lay beneath it. An interest he shared with Bucky. So he opens up to reading about plesiosaurs which, okay were in fact dinosaurs and not alive anymore. Well, so people thought. Steve personally thought they could be the explanation behind the loch ness monster. He would never say that out loud though. But they did use to live in the sea, so Steve was reading up about them. He also checks for any commissions.

Sam had set him up a simple website for his artwork, and he took commissions occasionally. Opening up for his work to be sold online. Most of the time he would just do his artwork on paper and either send the people their work for them to hold physically or he would scan them (although his old and beaten up scanner was on its way out) and send them by email. It was rare for him to break out his tablet, but he never really minded when he did. He shouldn’t after a two year long love affair with his first that got broken by too many spilled coffee cups and a beating in the city that cost too many bad memories more than it could afford. The city, really had not been kind to Steve.

“Hey Darlin’” Bucky comes into the room, still in his work clothes smiling broadly. Steve hadn’t even heard him come in. He puts a hand to his hearing aid, finding the settings to be fine. Either the battery was dying or he had just been deeply immersed in his conversation.   
“Hey Buck” Steve smiles back. The city had not been kind to Bucky either. After a year and a half in the army in Afghanistan, two tours and a lost limb later, Bucky had stayed with Steve in their crappy apartment while Steve finished his year at art school and then his whirlwind career as an artist for another. In that year and a half, the city and its surroundings had brought out the worst of Bucky’s PTSD and paranoia. The move had not just benefitted Steve.

Which is how, three years later they found themselves living in Sarah Rogers old home. Comfortable and happy.  
“Soup?” Bucky asks, gesturing to Steve’s half empty bowl  
“On the stove. And don’t feed Bill, I’ve already done it”  
“The fatty” Bucky chuckles as he leaves, murmuring to Bill as he goes. Steve grins, clicking back onto the chat.

Sam: Steve?  
Natasha: Steeeeeeeeeeeeve???  
Sam: Steve? Steve Steve?  
Natasha: s t e v e ? ? ?   
Steve: u guys r dumb  
Sam: wher’d u go??  
Steve: Buck came back frm wrk  
Natasha: I’m making kissy mocking noises right now  
Sam: saaaaaaaaame  
Steve: fck u guys  
Natasha: I think Bucky would hit us if you did ;)  
Steve: im gonna hurt you  
Sam: no u wont!!  
Steve: i will  
Natasha: You’re all talk

Bucky sits down heavily next to him, book in hand and soup mimicking Steve’s as it precariously sits on the couch’s arm rest.  
  
“Sam and Nat okay?”  
  
“Annoying as usual.”  
  
“Tell them I say hi” He grins, cracking the book open, bookmark (a receipt for the book) falling into his lap. He lets go of the book to pick it up and slip it into the back pages, place held as the book rested over his knee. He uses this time to grab another mouthful of soup before opening the book up again.

Steve: Buck says hi  
Nat: HI BUCKY  
Sam: Yoooo Buckster  
Steve: sam that was gross  
Natasha: Agreed

“They say hi back” Steve tells Bucky who grunts in acknowledgement “Don’t let your soup get cold.”  
  
“I won’t” A distracted nod. Steve knew he would. He always did. But re-heating forgotten food was why they had a microwave in the first place. That and popcorn. Which reminded Steve that they still had to open a few DVD’s from Christmas. It now being September.

Sam: hows the commissions go??  
Steve: I hve a few new ones  
Natasha: Are you picking them up again?  
Steve: think so  
Sam: good u need a hobby  
Steve: fuck you  
Natasha: Painting for old people doesn’t count  
Steve: yes it does

“Stop arguing over chat, you’re gonna break your laptop” Bucky mutters “You’re typing too hard” Steve didn’t even realise he was doing it half the time.   
  
“Laptops are sturdier that you think.”  
  
“Not enough to withstand your angry typing.”  
  
“I’m not angry.”  
  
“No, but I know how competitive you all are about getting in the wittiest insult first. I’ve been in those conversations, I’ve lived them” Bucky’s eyes have gone comically wide, but he ruins it by getting another few mouthful of soup “See, not cold.”  
“It will be soon if you don’t eat it all.”  
  
“I’m not a baby Steve.”  
  
“You want me to feed you?” Steve’s still looking over at Bucky, so he doesn’t miss the eye-roll Bucky sends his way.   
  
“Shut up and go back to your angry typing.”

Steve: apparently im angry typing  
Sam: wtf is that?????  
Natasha: You aren’t alone there  
Steve: ???  
Sam: ????????????  
Natasha: Clint says I 'angry type’  
Sam: u totes angry type  
Steve: yer u do  
Natasha: It’s because you’re both infuriating

Steve giggles, switching back to his emails. He only has four commissions unopened, so he would deal with them later. None of his work was ever urgent unless it was a birthday gift, and that was rare.

“Oh, I have something to tell you!” Steve’s jolted from his sentence a half hour later, head jerking to the side as Bucky hastily closes his book and shoves his nearly finished soup aside “I got the day off tomorrow so we can go for the picnic I promised.”  
  
“We could just go on Saturday, you didn’t have to rearrange your days” Steve can’t help but smile though.  
  
“It’s going to rain on Saturday, but the sun’s meant to be out tomorrow so” Bucky shrugs, a bashful smile on his face that Steve leans over to kiss into something more comfortable.  
  
“That’s lovely Buck, if I had my way we would have gotten soaked.”  
  
“Nah” Bucky shakes his head, and Steve watches as more hairs pull loose from the band to frame Bucky’s face “We would have just had another living room picnic.”  
  
“Like when we were kids!” Steve chimes in, “And back yard camping!”  
  
“There is no way we are ever doing that again!”

Steve nods to Bucky’s vehement protests. He remembers how badly that had gone. Steve had insisted on telling scary stories that had scared them half to death as the evening grew darker, any noise a shadow seeming to jump at them. They had ended up running inside screaming and crying their heads off. Not that they would admit that at fourteen, of course not.

“All the bugs” Bucky makes a face, the mosquitoes had been out in their hoards, and the promise of fireflies never came through.  
  
“And the failed fire” Steve chimes in, remembering the charred wood that had failed to light but seemed to smoke endlessly until it had burnt out.  
  
“So much for s’mores.”  
  
“Oh we can make those when we get back!” Steve claps his hands together, blushing when Bucky laughs good naturedly at him.  
  
“Alright you child, we can do that. And get up late.” Steve reaches over to rest his head against Bucky’s shoulder briefly before going back to looking over his commissions. Looking back over occasionally at Bucky as they share a smile.

Steve shifts so his back’s against Bucky’s side, throwing his legs over the arm of the couch as the fire warms the side of his face. Bucky leans to rest his head on Steve’s, finishing his soup quickly so he can carry on reading.  
  
“You finished?” Steve asks, not taking his eyes off his laptop screen as he scans through the requests in his emails.  
  
“Yes, you don’t have to feed me now” Steve feels Bucky kissing the top of his head.  
  
“I know. Do you want to stick a film on?”  
  
“Only if you put your damn laptop away” Bucky compromises.  
  
“Alright, you go pick one of the unopened ones and I’ll pack my shit away”.

Steve: I gotsta go  
Natasha: Why?   
Sam: WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?  
Steve: were watching a movie  
Natasha: Which means you’re going to make out for two hours  
Steve: Noooo it means were gonna watch a movie  
Sam: suuuuuuuuuuure  
Steve: fuck off. Later guys  
Sam: ttyl :p  
Natasha: Talk to you tomorrow Steve :D

“Alright i’ve fended off the masses” Steve tells Bucky as Bucky sits, remote in hand. Steve takes it off him, getting up as he places his laptop on the floor, he shifts so he’s sitting on Bucky’s right. Taking the hint, Bucky puts his arm around Steve and snuffles at his temple before kissing it and settling in.  
  
“It’s The Breakfast Club” Bucky introduces the film before Steve presses play, getting comfortable as he pulls his legs up so that his knees are rested on Bucky’s spread legs and he’s turned completely into his best friend’s side, ready to watch the film.

**

They do get up late the next day, and Steve only wakes when he feels a hand on his cock.

“Morning babe” He yawns, tilting his head back against Bucky’s chest, resting it there as Bucky jacks him through his pants.  
  
“Mornin’” Bucky breaths back, right down Steve’s ear and Steve laughs, giving in and starting to rock his hips back against Bucky’s hard on. Carrying on like that, Steve lazily writhes between Bucky’s warm palm, which had now slipped into his pants and had a firm grip on Steve’s cock, and Bucky’s own dick which was insistent at his thigh, while Bucky held Steve close, rubbing off against his partner’s ass, not making the biggest effort to get Steve off until Steve starts doing the work for him, kicking his hips up into Bucky’s grip until he’s coming, tacky in his pants while Bucky finishes in his own.

“We’re fucking gross” Steve chuckles, shimmying out of the bed.   
  
“Yeah, but now we can fuck in the shower.”  
  
“True” Steve’s allows himself to look over at Bucky for a minute, letting the smirk wash over him, not ignoring the adoring gaze that came with it “Come on you sap” he holds his hand out “Lets go again in the shower.”

After their shared shower they prepare for the day. Bumbling through getting dressed and getting downstairs. It was a lazy day, and lazy days called for lazy and sleepy behaviour.

“Steve, could you make the food while I dig out the basket and blanket” Bucky directs, pointing vaguely to the kitchen as he splits off, stumbling over his feet slightly as he goes. Steve just smiles at his retreating back, nodding as Bucky turns around to go back upstairs. “Why did I even go downstairs?” He hears Bucky grumble and smiles wider to himself, going into the kitchen.

He makes quick work of the sandwiches, making a flask of coffee as well as a small salad. He also wraps up some cake too, after adding a couple of apples they were all set.

“You ready Buck?” He calls through the house, waiting for the muffled reply before lumping everything together. He grabs Bucky’s hoodie from the back of one of the kitchen chairs, shrugging that on before feeding the cat and straightening up. He liked wearing Bucky’s clothes better.

“Yeah” Bucky plonks everything down on the table, dressed similarly to Steve which was to say in about four different layers to battle the oncoming winter months.

Steve really did love autumn though. Despite what it did to his health and the weather.

He sets about packing everything up, neatly stacking the food and flask in the basket before piling the blanket on top and shutting it over.  
  
“Ready?” He turns to Bucky who was already nodding and walks out towards the door, opening it and letting the brisk air in. It was sunny though, meaning that it wouldn’t bother them too much.

Steve trails behind, finally getting outside, basket in hand.  
  
“Bill!” He shouts into the house, waiting for the tell tale thump of the fat cat jumping off the bed and running down the stairs from where had gone back to after having his breakfast. He speeds past Steve and Bucky, running off to the fields behind the cottage. Bucky locks the door, taking Steve’s free hand before they set off.

They’re both warm and happy as they meander down the lane, swinging their hands gently as they walk. It soon turns silly though as Bucky starts to move their hands more forcefully, prompting Steve to do the same before their hands are swinging above their heads and turning them both towards each other on the back swing. Laughing loudly, their messing around is the only sound in the deserted area, other than the wind and cawing seagulls.

The path isn’t long, and it only takes ten minutes before they’ve reached the soft dry sand at the top of the beach.  
  
“You want to settle here?” Bucky asks, gesturing with his foot at a patch of grass free sand and Steve nods before putting everything down.

Taking the blanket out of the basket, they each grab an end and try and lay it down, frowning as the wind makes it practically impossible.   
  
“Try again” Steve directs, as they both whip at the checked blanket, bringing it down to the ground to lay flat. After a couple of tries it lies flat, but once they let go to sort the food out it’s being taken by the wind, flying across the plane of beach.  
  
“SHIT!” Bucky chases after it, staggering in the uneven sand as it carries on going, wind keeping it moving. “GET BACK HERE YOU STUPID FUCKING BLANKET!” Bucky was fuming now, nearly face planting as he caught up to the runaway fabric, jumping on it to keep it where it was by a small patch of rock pools.

By this point, Steve was on his knees, howling with laughter as Bucky trudged back, small smile trying to break through his frown as he held the blanket aloft.  
  
“I’m going to have sand in my shoes for weeks now!” Bucky complains as he reaches Steve, earning nothing but a shake of the head and a fond expression of exasperation. “How about this,” He strategizes, letting Steve get his breath back “We put it down, I sit on it, and you haul the basket onto it with us.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan.” And this time, it goes off without a hitch.

They tuck into their early meal, passing the flask back and forth as they munch. It was more of a brunch than a lunch, not that either of them really minded that much.  
  
“This is great” Steve smiles, looking out at the roiling waves. There was static in the air, and he could tell it would be getting humid soon too. A storm was coming. The waves themselves were practically crashing onto the shore as the tide drew them out, further and further away from the picnic-ers who were snuggled up together, sides pressed against each other on the blanket.

“It is isn’t it” Bucky replies, shoving another giant bite of sandwich into his mouth. Steve curls his arm around Bucky’s waist tighter, just as the wind picks up another notch. Absently, Bucky kisses the side of Steve’s head before turning back to his food.

“I finished the painting so we can visit the Grady’s later on today.” Steve tries to say through a mouthful of lettuce, but ends up having to repeat himself with an empty mouth after Bucky just looks at him blankly, not understanding the mumbling.   
  
“Okay, we can do that. But we should take our time today.”  
  
“Wouldn’t expect anything else” they share another moment of companionable silence before Steve jumps a little, body starting as he pucks up an idea he had the night before “Now come on, are you gonna help me build a sandcastle?”

Shuffling uncomfortably to the edge of the blanket, Steve starts to dig a little under the dry sand. Only stopping to look over his shoulder when he feels the damp sand under his nails. “Come on Buck, please.” Pouting was a dirty trick but he does it anyway, batting his eyelashes at his boyfriend until Bucky rolls his eyes and relents, shuffling over on his knees.

“You’re a child.”  
  
“Eh maybe. But if it gets me smores and hot chocolate later then i’m not complaining.”   
  
“Is this saying you want me to wait on you Mr Rogers?” Bucky shoves at Steve with his shoulder gently.  
  
“Always Mr Barnes.” Steve piles some sand onto Bucky’s hand, making the pile bigger as Bucky’s hand imprinted slowly into the grit.  
  
“Was that necessary?” Side eyeing Bucky, Steve just shrugs before smirking.

Snorting at the ridiculous face, Bucky flicks the sand back. Leaving it all over Steve’s jeans. The wind picks up again as they carry on making their lopsided sand castle. Complete with turrets, even if they were wonky.

Complaining a good ten minutes later, Steve hits gently at Bucky’s coat “You made it collapse!” Watching as the towers slowly topple over onto themselves. Steve stares on forlornly before hitting at Bucky again, missing this time as Bucky leans away with a pout.  
  
“No you did!” Retaliating, Bucky flicks more sand at Steve, who in turn turns his murderous gaze back to his boyfriend before throwing a handful back.  
  
“You’re gonna get it Barnes!”

They start shoving handfuls of sand at one another, throwing turning into handfuls shoved into pockets and down necks, which turns into handsy wrestling. They’re both panting and laughing as they grapple with each other, no heat behind any of their movements until Steve gets Bucky on his back, falling forward accidentally on the tangle of their legs to go crashing into Bucky, ending up lying on his chest.

“You wanna go punk?” Bucky chuckles, out of breath before he rolls his hips up, just once as his face inches closer to Steve’s.

Steve can feel Bucky’s breath on his lips as they try to regain their breathing but it’s hard with their position. A far off cry from a seagull is enough for Steve to be brushing another handful of sand into Bucky’s hair and leaning up, hands on Bucky’s chest for leverage until he’s upright and able to stand.  
  
“Don’t you be getting fresh with me Mr. We have to be out later and I am not having sex on a public beach thank you very much.” His lips burn as he says it though, and he has to stop himself from running his fingers over them as the ghost of Bucky’s breath leaves.

Bucky grumbles under his breath, something about the beach being deserted but he gets up anyway, dusting himself off before gathering up the picnic basket.

They walk back against the wind, Bucky’s arm tightly around Steve with their heads down, lips rightly shut into grimaces as they battle their way back home.

It doesn’t take long, but Steve’s shivering with the cold when they get in, so Bucky shuffles them both upstairs.

“We’re getting another shower, then I’m gonna bundle you up on the couch with a hot water bottle.” Bucky had dumped the basket by the door as they had got in, and was currently trying to undress the two of them as Steve fussed over the shower.

Going to protest, Steve turns, arm raised as he’s about to object until Bucky puts a hand over his mouth, both now naked while the water heats up behind them.

“We can still go out later. But you need to warm up, you’re not getting pneumonia again.” He peeks around Steve’s shoulder, shoving his hand into the spray and nodding. “Alright get in.”

Unlike the shower they had before, this one is slow and sedate, with Bucky holding onto Steve while Steve washes his hair, humming gently under his breath while Bucky keeps Steve under the spray. They only shuffle around to get rid of the soap from Bucky’s hair before he’s forcefully shuffling them back, glaring at Steve who had started to say something. Bucky would much prefer having a slightly cold back rather than making Steve have one.

Bucky takes to washing Steve down, making sure the blonde didn’t have any more sand in his hair or even under his nails, peppering kisses to the man’s arms and chest and back, feeling the thin skin under his lips shiver whenever he hits a sensitive spot. Steve just huffs under his breath, smiling up at Bucky in a fond and exasperated way, repaying the favour as he washes Bucky, tickling at his sides to get Bucky to squirm and bark out a laugh, wincing away while Steve cackles.

They don’t speak once while they shower. Steve worn out after the walk, unwilling to admit it, and Bucky not wanting to push him.

Once they’re suitable warm and completely free of sand, Steve finally forces them out of the shower, hiding his smile at Bucky’s caring as Steve wraps them both in a large towel, nudging up to Bucky to rest his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Letting Bucky wrap his arm around him as they both stand there together. Heat of the closed bathroom letting them dry slowly.

Sighing, not wanting to part from Bucky to get fully dry, Steve presses a kiss to the scarred skin on Bucky’s chest before breaking apart, smiling.

“We can cuddle once we’re dry, come on hot shot.” Steve wiggles, waiting for Bucky to reach behind him and get another towel before they’re both drying themselves. Bucky grimacing at the lack of pyjamas in the bathroom before nodding a quick,

“Wait here.” And darting into the bedroom, braving the slightly colder room while Steve waits in the warm bathroom, gladly taking the pyjamas from Bucky once Bucky’s back, smiling and shivering a little but happy all the same.

Bucky shuffles them straight to the couch once they’re downstairs, piling blanket upon blanket on Steve before he’s leaving to go into the kitchen, and Steve can hear him boiling the kettle and puttering around.

Steve wouldn’t ever say it, because he was too stubborn to do more than whisper thanks when the world was quiet, and only Bucky could hear him, but he was immensely grateful for the care Bucky gave him. He enjoyed how Bucky fussed over him, revelled in how Bucky would focus all of his attention on him, selfish in how much he loved being the centre of Bucky’s world, much like how Bucky was the centre of his. But if anybody asked, he hated getting fussed over, he didn’t need it.

Soon back, Bucky re-enters the living room, hot water bottle in hand before darting back twice to get their drinks.

“You don’t have to drink it.” Fussing still, Bucky pulls the blankets around Steve together as he climbs into the blanket fort he had constructed around Steve. And only once he’s happy with how he’d wrapped Steve and himself up did he reach over and get his drink, letting Steve get his own, unable to disturb the blankets, even as he reached.

“Nah, you made the effort. Put the tv on?” The remote was, somewhere. So Bucky hunts around, not really looking thoroughly as Steve settles again, drink pressed to his chest.

Unable to find it, Bucky finally stops his search and clutches at his own mug “I can’t find it.” Bucky’s a little shame faced admitting it, Steve just snorts.

“Doesn’t matter.” Leaning heavily Steve gets comfortable with his head ractically under Bucky’s armpit, and it doesn’t feel like much against Bucky’s side as Steve barely weighed anything “Tell me a story.”

“A real life story? Or one about dragons?”

“Real life, I’m still working on the dragon sketch.” They did that often, Bucky telling stories and Steve illustrating them. They had pages and pages just lying around, one side full of Bucky’s writing, and the other Steve’s writing.

“Alright.” Fortifying himself with a sip from his mug, Bucky begins. Thinking back to his training days. “You remember the day I left right?”

Waiting for Steve to nod, he carries on “Well, I was still crying by the time I got to basic. And I expected to get ripped a new one you know.” The chuckle doesn’t surprise him, this was one of his few find memories from his time in the army. “But instead, Dum Dum, first time I met the guy, just puts his arm around me and starts crying too! No prompting no nothing. Until his friend Morita comes and drags us both into our room, finding out that we were all sharing. By then, Falsworth and Gabe had come in too, Dernier laughing behind them. And they just sat with me till I got my shit together. Gave me the biggest group hug in the world before helping me with my shit.” He giggles, and honest to goodness giggle “We’ll have to go visit them huh Steve?”

When he looks down, he’s just in time to rescue Steve’s hot chocolate from the man’s slack grip, Steve being fast asleep, snuggled like a pup right into Bucky’s side, mouth open and drooling a little.

“Sleepy ass.” Bucky grumbles, but finishes his drink in silence anyway, carefully moulding around Steve once he’s done so he can nap too.

**

“Bucky. Wake up buck, we’re gonna be late.” Bucky’s growls at the hand on his shoulder. Squeezing his eyes tighter to block out the light of the room, burrowing into the blankets further.

“G’way Steve.” Mumbling, he tries to roll over, instantly regretting his decision when he can feel himself start to fall, and then accepting his fate as he bumps his head on the coffee table on his way to the floor, groaning with a large thump, falling swiftly from the couch.

“That’s what you get lazy.” Steve sniffs, but then he pulls his good guy shtick and helps Bucky up, reaching on tip toe to kiss the bump on Bucky’s forehead. “Come on, I want to get there and then get back.” There’s a glint in Steve’s eye that Bucky smirks at.

“Or we could just go tomorrow?” He suggests, crowding Steve a little to press their bodies together. He doesn’t bat an eye though when Steve laughs, pushing him away.

“Nah, I promised we’d go as soon as I finished. Go on, get dressed.”

Bucky huffs good naturedly as he passes, scoffing as Steve slaps his ass on the way past.

Getting dressed doesn’t take long, and soon enough he and Steve are bundled up in coats again and off out, Bill somewhere in the fields behind them. Probably hunting.

The Grady’s house was cute and small, just enough for the couple, and they welcome both Steve and Bucky with open arms, Mrs Grady instantly taking the canvas from Steve’s hands, cooing over it while she and Steve shuffle off into the living room. Leaving Bucky and Mr Grady to roll their eyes with affection and go to the kitchen.

“So how are you Rob? Hip not bothering you?” Bucky’s polite while Rob opens two beers, sliding one Bucky’ way as they sit opposite each other at the table. The beers cold but the house is warm, and Bucky can sit back and relax in the inviting home. He can hear Steve chattering in the living room, and Rob was a good fella to talk to.

“Not in recent weeks, But Barb’s back has.” Rob leans back, chair grating a little on the tiles as he frowns.

“Well, I’m always here if anything needs doing.” Bucky reassures, waiting until Rob nods in acceptance.

“Nothing needs doing, but thanks for the offer.” They sit for a while, chatting about the small village, about who was doing what, and the upcoming October half term would bring in terms of tourists. And the fact that kids still trekked to their small cottages on Halloween.

“We gotta stock up on candy then.” Bucky smiles, “And dress up.” They did every year, matching costumes of course, it always gave the kids something to smile about.

“So will we, a witch and wizard again I think.” Rob was smiling despite his gruff tone, giving way to how much he secretly enjoyed doing the silly thing for the kids. They were good people, the Grady’s.

Bucky’s soon finishing his beer, and the two men sit in comfortable silence, listening to Mrs Grady and Steve talk animatedly, laughing when they did, even if their laughter was out of affection rather than being in on the joke.

“You want me to check the stair rail before we go?” Bucky asks, remembering it had been wobbly the last time he and Steve had visited.

“Sure, tools are under the stairs.” Rob hangs in the kitchen doorway as Bucky tightens the nails holding the stair rail together, asking about Bucky’s own home.

“Yeah, we need to paint the small room, and probably re-do the guttering. Nothing’s falling apart though.” He finishes the last nail with a flourish, packing everything away quickly and turning around to catch all three people watching him. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re a good kid James. You’re lucky to have him Steve.” Mrs Grady remarks, smiling at him “And you’re lucky to have Steve.”

“Don’t have to tell me ma’am.” He salutes, getting up to put everything back under the stairs before fetching his and Steve’s coats.

“Have a good night the both of you.” Steve waves cheerfully when they leave, gripping Bucky’s hand tight in his own before they walk home, dusk having fallen quickly while they were there. It isn’t hard to navigate in the dark though, and the darkness provides some form of secrecy for Steve as he stops them both continually to lean up and kiss his partner, laughing into Bucky’s surprised mouth every time.

The sudden rush of affection wasn’t anything new, and he’d been a little on edge since the beach anyway.

They stagger home, giggly and happy not bothering to take off their shoes until they’re in the bedroom when they get home.

“Buck come on.” Steve’s still laughing as he undresses, stopping every few seconds to surge up and kiss Bucky.

“What’s got into you today?” Bucky’s undressing too, sounding elated. “You’re not normally this horny.”

“Full moon?” Steve cocks his head before they’re both spluttering, falling onto the bed, Steve wrapping his legs around the back of Bucky’s while Bucky lies on top of him, arm keeping him from leaning on Steve fully, yet still bracketing him in.

The truth was, they hadn’t really had sex in a couple of months because Steve kept getting ill and wasn’t ever up to it, but now he felt better, everything just sort of all came out at once. Not that he was really complaining. And apparently neither was Bucky.

Bucky doesn’t say anything back, just smirks down at Steve, keeping eye contact for a second, smirk turning into something softer before he’s leaning down and gently kissing Steve lowering his body to grind slowly against the blonde. Steve gasps in response, right into Bucky’s open mouth before he’s biting down, hips grinding involuntarily back up as a whine builds in the back of his throat.

“Fuck me.” He’s not above pleading, but Bucky just shakes his head as he carries on, slow and carefully grinding his erection against Steve’s.

“Gonna tease you first.” Bucky’s laughing the git, breathing right into Steve’s ear, letting out little gasps of his own, controlled and only there to tease.

“Buck come on. Fuck me.” Steve grinds up more forcefully, circling his hips and finally getting a bitten of gasp from Bucky, causing the man to growl and roll off Steve, reaching into the bedside table.

“Legs up.” Complying, because Steve wanted this, something a little frantic and unlike their usual sleepy romps. He doesn’t feel any shame like this, arms holding his legs against his chest, ass spread as he waits for Bucky to do whatever he pleased.

He doesn’t expect Bucky’s tongue in his ass, and he’s jolted from looking up at the ceiling, looking down at Bucky who’s wiggling his eyebrows up at him. Steve just laughs, slapping gently at Bucky’s head as he feels Bucky squeeze one of his cheeks, nails digging in a little as he goes back to casually licking at Steve’s ass.

Steve’s soon gasping, Bucky’s tongue at his rim enough to get him writing as Bucky teased. Steve puts his hands in Bucky’s hair, tugging as Bucky finally gives him what he wants, slipping his tongue into Steve’s ass, stretching the muscle in the way Steve wants. Both of them are moaning, the sensation enough for Steve to grind back onto Bucky’s face, whimpering as Bucky circles his tongue.

Breath shallow Steve throws his head back “You fucker.”

“That what you want?” Bucky finally comes up for air, hair a mess and grin cheeky. “Lube?” Steve unwillingly untangles his hands from Bucky’s hair, going to grab the lube for Bucky’s fingers.

Bucky starts with one, the two, an the third gets Steve almost crying with it, cock leaking all over his belly as Bucky rubs at his prostate. They had been at it for a while, Bucky teasing and coaxing, getting Steve opening enough for his cock.

“You ready?” Bucky asks, just to be a shit, and Steve only keens in response, hands tugging at the sheets as Bucky straightens up, knee’s cracking a little from where he had been kneeling on the floor.

It’s not hard for Bucky to slip in after all the prep, and they were both clean, so a condom wasn’t needed. Steve’s practically screaming at all of the feeling, Bucky stretching him that little bit more as the man slowly rocks into Steve.

“Bucky Bucky Bucky.” Whining, chanting Bucky’s name, Steve lies there, hands going to Bucky’s sides as Bucky slowly starts fucking into him, thrusts getting faster and faster the more Steve whines, nails dragging down Bucky’s chest, leaving welts that would be there for hours. He can’t stop though, can’t do more than chant Bucky’s name as his cock aches, the ache building up behind his navel as Bucky hits his prostate over and over again.

“Stevie?”

“Close.” Gasping, because of how quickly it hits him, Steve’s grabbing at his cock, no finesse behind his strokes as he gets himself off, squeezing at the base and running his fingers under the head. It only takes seconds and he’s coming, screaming once, long and loud as he does. Bucky close behind him, groaning deep in his throat.

Both are panting, covered in sweat and cum, and all it takes is Bucky glancing at Steve, satisfied and dopey looking, for Steve to roll his eyes, heat now gone, dulled into complacency.

“Get the fuck off of me, I need to get cleaned up.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Bucky does get up, gently as he eases out of Steve, both of them practically shuffling to the bathroom, Steve sore but happy. Bucky smiling as smug as can be as he cleans the pair up, letting Steve loll against him as they go back to the bedroom, reluctantly changing the sheets and getting into bed.

They’re just comfortable, because naked cuddling was the best, Bucky revealing in the feeling of Steve’s head on his chest, arms around his waist, when they hear Bill yowling at the front door.

“Oh for fucks sake.”

**

The next day Bucky’s back at work, smiling at the locals as he rings up their shopping, the regulars stopping to chat as there was never many people in a rush in the store.

It was a good job, enough to cover the bills along with his army back pay. And it meant that Steve got to be an artist while Bucky still felt useful in the community. His boss was a good guy too, accommodating and fair. His co-workers were nice too. Always willing to gossip at lunch over coffee, share a laugh over the vegetables and such.

It was good. It was a nice life.

The best part of Bucky’s day though was going back to Steve. And he was sure it was always going to be. Today was no different, walking home with a spring in his step, waving to people he knew, smiling to those he didn’t who smiled at him first. Treading the well-worn path home.

He stops in at the Grady’s first with some fresh bread and milk, shrugging when they thank him out of a skewed sense of embarrassment.

“Darlin’ I’m in.” He calls when he finally gets in, Bill winding around his legs as Steve smiles up at him from the couch.

“Dinners on the stove.”

“Alright, you get much done today?” He’s dumps his stuff on the table, grabbing the made up plate and taking it into the living room to sit and eat. Steve was on his laptop, smiling at something, and it doesn’t take much to guess that it’s either Sam, Clint or Natasha. “The dorks okay?”

“Yes and yes. Got a few commissions packaged, going to run them out tomorrow. And they’re cool.”

Bucky just nods, smiling at his dinner before settling back, switching the tv onto something mindless so he can chill out. Life was great, Steve was great, he was great. Steve was sitting next to him, he was warm, and there was a cat purring at his feet in a home that was theirs.

Steve looks over sneakily at Bucky, who was mulling things over in his head, just like he did most evenings, and Steve grins to himself, going back to his chat. He loved his life here with Bucky, he really did.


End file.
